


Someone To Watch Over Me

by doctor_jones



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/F, First Kiss, canon-compliant cartinelli, it had to be done, spoilers through 1x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_jones/pseuds/doctor_jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Peggy and Angie's diner scene at the end of 1x03 might have gone, in a slightly different universe. Spoilers through 1x03.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone To Watch Over Me

**Author's Note:**

> I know the title's been done, but really - what else could you call it? Comments and critiques appreciated.

Bright light poured out of the windows of the automat, making the street on which Peggy stood look all the darker by comparison. A man in a gray suit exited the revolving door, tipping his hat to her as he walked past. Peggy nodded, distractedly, eyes fixed on the automat window, heart in her throat.

Inside, Angie bustled behind the counter in her mint-green uniform. Peggy watched as she poured coffee for another man in a gray suit, sitting alone at a table for two. 

Peggy took a deep breath to quiet the thudding in her chest and pushed through the revolving door. The warm smell of coffee met her nose, and over the speakers, “Someone to Watch Over Me” unfurled sweetly - a realization that caused a warm little twinge in Peggy’s heart. She saw Angie spot her, saw her pause for a moment, and then turn away, unsmiling. Peggy’s breath fled her in a puff. It felt like being punched in the stomach.

Still, she was here. No use in giving up now. 

"The usual?" There was little warmth in Angie’s voice, as Peggy perched on the black vinyl stool and laid her handbag on the counter.

"Yes, please." Peggy’s voice sounded small, even to her own ears. Now that she was finally off her feet, the weight of the day - of Agent Krzeminski’s death, of the questions it had forced Peggy to ask - threatened to crush her. She felt a heat behind her eyes and a stinging in her nose, watching Angie thud her cup and saucer onto the counter just a little too emphatically. 

Angie glanced at Peggy out of the corner of her eye. “Anything else?” she asked, flatly.

Peggy tried, and failed, to keep her voice from breaking. “I - I thought I might… tell you about my day,” she offered. “If you have a moment.”

Angie’s expression softened. “Yeah, that’d be a nice change. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands.” She folded her arms on the counter, leaning in. “All ears.”

The closeness of Angie - her blue eyes wide and fixed on Peggy’s, a faint trace of scented shampoo closing the distance between them - was comforting, like a cool hand on a fevered forehead. The words came slowly at first, and then in a rush, as Peggy put them out into the world for the first time, tasting the reality and the weight of them. Krzeminski was dead. Once again, someone near her had paid the ultimate price - and yet, paradoxically, here she was at Angie’s counter. Peggy felt like a plague ship.

Angie responded to the news with sympathetic rambling - a story about the sudden death of her slightly-delinquent cousin Ralphie. A smile tugged at the corners of Peggy’s lips as she watched Angie’s animated expressions. A tightness in Peggy’s chest lifted slightly, and she sat up a little straighter, determined.

"I don’t know why it’s hit me so hard. He was - a brute, a cheat. He was disrespectful, rude…" Peggy shook her head, trailing off. She could see it in her mind’s eye: how sudden it must have been, how sharp the gunshots in the late-night quiet. Slowly, hesitantly, her eyes met Angie’s gaze. "But it reminds one," she said quietly, "just how quickly everything can change."

Angie reached across the counter and wrapped Peggy’s hand up in her own. Angie’s skin was warm, and she stroked a thumb across the back of Peggy’s hand. “I’m really sorry, honey.”

Peggy’s heart hammered harder in her chest than it had in months. She felt the warmth of a flush creeping into her cheeks. Squeezing Angie’s hand, she took a deep breath and-

"Miss, could I get a refill?"

Peggy felt the moment shatter. With a roll of her eyes, Angie pulled back her hand and went to fetch the carafe. “Let me get this jerk his refill, and I’ll clock out,” she said, a rueful grin on her face. 

********

Minutes later, Angie exited the back door of the automat, shrugging on her coat. Peggy stood waiting in the alley, her broad-brimmed hat casting deep shadows over her face.

"You know, I think that jerk is sweet on me," Angie laughed. "He’s in there every day, always hassling me. Could you imagine?"

Angie took a step toward the street, but Peggy didn’t follow. Angie turned back to see her friend, shoulders square and chin high, backlit by the bulb above the alley door. A crushed napkin was being twisted into tiny pieces in her hands.

"I can, actually," said Peggy, her voice clear but for a tiny tremble. "Imagine, that is."

Angie stepped closer, back into the alleyway, and Peggy could see a crease of concern between her brows.

"It’s just that you… you really are quite beautiful, and you’ve been so kind to me. And it’s been such a long time, since… Well, never mind that, but suffice it to say that I’ve had my share of hurts lately, and I find that when I’m with you-"

Lips met Peggy’s seemingly from nowhere.  _PUNCH_ , her brain said, and then  _WAIT, DON’T_ , and then Angie was kissing her. Peggy laughed into the kiss, and then leaned in, circling her arms around Angie’s waist and drawing the other woman close. After a moment, Angie pulled back, and Peggy scanned her face, looking for regret, for shame. All she found were laughing eyes and smears of bright-red lipstick.

"Shut up, English. You talk too much."


End file.
